Let's Just Lie Under a Thousand Stars
by ThatOneGoodWriter
Summary: When Clarissa Fray, a smart but spirited student who never seemed to lose passion for anything, meets Jace Herondale; a youthful man who seems too cold for anyone to ever love, she finally discovers why you don't touch broken or shattered glass. Because you wound yourself along the way...
1. Chapter 1

_"It's a cruel and random_  
 _world, but the chaos is all so beautiful."_  
(Hiromu Arakawa)

Clarissa pecked her mother's cheek before grabbing her worn out backpack and darting out the apartment door. Trying to tame her rowdy looking hair, she decided to take a short cut to school. The wind howled around her and snowflakes began to drift from the sky, dusting her already crimson colored hair with white specks. She hurried her steps but made sure not the slip on the ice beneath her. It was the beginning of winter in Manhattan which was basically a blizzard to say the least.

The freckle faced girl decided to ramble into an alley in attempt to not get to class late. Simon would be angry. They had agreed to meet up at a nearby coffee shop before school would start and she had missed it. _Stupid alarm,_ she thought angrily. The day before, Clarissa was desperately trying to complete her biology project ahead of the due date. Her current grade was a b- and by doing this extra credit assignment, she'd be able to move the points up a notch or two.

Halting her quick steps, she stumbled over her own feet in embarassment and was glad there was no one beside her. Scowling at her actions, Clarissa heard or rather felt a presence behind her. Eyebrows raising, she half turned only to see a dark figure, leaning against the brick wall lazily. _What the heck?_ She shrugged carelessly, guessing it was someone strolling around the streets. Maybe someone homeless... New York was never empty.

Then the body moved. It was a man, she could tell. He was lean, his walk dangerous. It oddly reminded her of a predator. Clarissa's lips parted in panic. _I have got to go. I need to go. Simon is waiting._ Her thoughts began to clash in her head, shouting at her to run away but her body betrayed her.

He looked magnificent, with a halo of gold and light brown locks. His eyes were a fair hue, cold but amused. She felt afraid but mesmerized. The young man looked older than her, perhaps by two or three years. Wearing a dark shirt under a tattered white hoodie, he seemed to be someone from the street. She snapped her gaze to meet his orbs and saw him purse his lips.

And the first thing he said surprised her. Clarissa took a step back, then another. _"How short are you?"_

 **[a/n]: This is the prologue! Please review and give me your feedback. It will be well appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Let's Just Lie Under a Thousand Stars**

 _"How many nights does it take to count the stars?_  
 _That's the time it would take to fix my heart._  
 _Oh, baby, I was there for you_  
 _All I ever wanted was the truth, yeah, yeah_  
 _How many nights have you wished someone would stay?_  
 _Lie awake only hoping they're okay_  
 _I never counted all of mine_  
 _If I tried, I know it would feel like infinity_  
 _Infinity, infinity, yeah_  
 _Infinity."_ (Infinity)

 **Chapter 1: Stuck in an Awkward Situation**

Jace stared at the girl who held the pepper spray tightly in her small hands. She didn't look like much; wide olive eyes and a very small figure. Her backpack had fallen to the ground and he noticed Raphael appearing from the corner, a ripe apple in his fingers. His dark hair was even curlier than before and his ebony colored eyes were filled with sudden interest.

She tensed and Jace realized her bottom lip was trembling. _Was she this scared?_ He smirked and took a step towards her. Raphael called out something but he ignored him, focusing his golden gaze on the girl. "Who are you?"

Clary managed to muster up, her head already against the wall. She heard him chuckle and winced at the sound, cold, like a cackle. Her body froze and his long locks tickled her cheeks. She considered running away but that was way out of the question especially since another man stood behind them.

"What are we gonna do with her?" The Mexican looking one questioned, taking a bite from the fruit. Clary's eyes were glued anywhere but to the figure centimeters across from her. Then, with all the courage she could raise, Clarissa lifted the mace and saw in horrified fascination as it was knocked away, skittering onto the cracked sidewalk.

"I don't think that's a great idea." He said and there was a glint of savage amusement plastered on his face. She wondered why he looked and seemed _so..._ ruthless.

Clary shut her eyes in desperation and whispered almost to herself, "Please, just, leave me alone." Jace frowned and saw the color drain from her face. Anger began to boil in his own veins and he wanted so badly to punch the brick wall behind her curls. Raphael sensed something was wrong and pushed his shoulder roughly.

"What is it dude?"

Jace shook his head and motioned for them to leave. His friend protested but clenched his jaw when he witnessed Jace's displeasure. The tawny haired man took one glance at the still rigid girl before muttering something distinctly like, "My mother looked at me like that."

The two left and Clarissa cracked an eye open to find no one around her as if it were merely a nightmare. The snow still fell from the clouds in bunches. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. She dropped to the ground despite the fact that she was wearing her school skirt. Her finger tips were shaking and Clary wiped at her eyes. She didn't know why but she did.

The only thing that convinced her what had just happened was real was the bitten, crimson apple lying atop a few small rocks. That, and the burning bruise on her wrist, light but intense.

His words kept repeating in her head, moment after moment.

 _My mother always looked at me like that._ She scrambled up her belongings and hurtled away.

 **[a/n]:** Hi guys! I've decided that this story will have short chapters and the updates will be quick. Thanks so much and enjoy the chapter!

 **p/s]:** Did you guys hear One Direction's new song? It's simply magnificent! I'm in love. I'll stop bothering you guys, haha. Until next time, wanderers, dreamers, and wishful thinkers!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2: Who Are You?**

Clarissa laughed and bobbed her head to Simon's words. "Nah, my mom's going to worry. You know how she acts." Her lifelong best friend sighed in disappointment, grabbing his phone in the process. She glanced at her watch absentmindedly, allowing her green orbs to study her current surroundings.

They were in Simon's apartment, technically his mother's. He sat cross-legged on the carpeted ground, a bottle of water tipping from the table beside them. "Alrighty then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow." She nodded and gave him a smile before hugging him good night. After the door was shut behind her, Clarissa's stomach begged for a cup of coffee.

She hummed her way down the stairs and outside where snow continued to fall in the city of Manhattan. Clarissa was accustomed to the vivid graffiti that caught many eyes but caused some awe too. The smell of fresh brewed coffee slipped through her nostrils and she sauntered towards the cashier line. "Black coffee." The worker was quite handsome with hazel colored eyes and light brown hair. According to the tag stuck on his uniform, his name was Jordon. He smiled and and handed her the hot mug.

Clarissa thanked him and trudged off, the sky beginning to dark. As she walked down the cement, she thought about her mother who was working nearly endlessly to recieve the cash they needed. She was an artist, one who surely deserved the title but it didn't pay much nonetheless. Her short strides halted at the sight of a hunched figure curled against the brick wall. Her eyes softened. _Maybe my struggles aren't really that hard._ She rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a buck and a few quarters.

Bending lower, she tried to place the cash onto the man's lap when his hand shot up and gripped her wrist. With a horrified yelp, Clarissa attempted to pull away but couldn't move. Then he looked up and she almost gasped. It was the same guy. The same one from last time. "What do you want?" He asked, dangerously slow.

Her breathing fastened. Desperation fell over her already pale features. "I just- I just gave some money." He sneered loudly, his golden locks falling against his forehead. The young man wore a different hoodie, still tattered in a way. His fair gaze was emotionless except for the bit of cold amusement in them that confused her slightly.

"Leave and take your fucking money. I don't need it." His words came back harsh and she winced. Clarissa frowned and he let go of her hand. She took it back rubbing the sting away. He remained sitting there, his head in his arms. For some reason, she stood there numbly knowing the risks but choosing to stay. _Where did he live? Was he homeless? On the streets?_

Something burst in her chest and she placed her untouched mug a few inches from his feet. Immediately stepping back, Clarissa watched as he stared up only to meet her forest flecked eyes. His eyebrows rose in challenge and then he seemed to notice the hot beverage beside him. She couldn't really tell what he was thinking, his emotions were hidden. "Leave girl. I don't need any charity. I ain't poor." This time his voice was slightly lower, a little thoughtful.

She found herself responding. "It's not charity, just a little help." He shifted around and lied his matted hair against the wall, orbs on the dark but very much alive sky above them.

"What is a girl like you doin' here at night? Do me a favor and leave girl." Clarissa tilted her head in question. There was something that drew her interest towards him. His skin was illuminated by the street lights and his strands glinted in the moonlight. His rugged features were alluring, to anybody really.

"I could ask you the same." At that, he cackled cruelly and met her eyes. He knitted his brow. Then pursed his lips.

"I live here."

They stayed silent. Nobody spoke. She saw him pull out a rather long cigarette and stick it into his lips. Puffs of smoke emerged in the air and she covered her nose from the strong smell. He didn't bother moving away. His eyes were stuck on the sky, the silent killer already performing its job. He blew the exhaust in forms of circles, his lips curling into a soft smirk.

"Smoking kills." She mumbled, kicking at the curb nervously.

He didn't face her. "I'm ready to go." When he uttered those words, she felt the need to leave. Jocelyn would be home now. Clarissa recalled his expressions and had no idea why she decided to stay there with him. She didn't even know him. They were complete strangers who seemed worlds away.

He said something before she left and it repeated in her head as she unlocked her bedroom door.

 _"I can see it in you. You're wondering about me. Don't. I'm warnin' ya."_

 **[Review for a quick update! Thanks.]**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3:**

" _If you truly loved someone you won't become their enemy. You will become their guardian angel."_ (Shannan L. Alder)

Clarissa stuffed the notebooks into her bag and slung it over her shoulder lazily. She rushed towards her slightly bewildered mother and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you for dinner!" She shouted, in the process of turning the front door knob.

Jocelyn raised her eyebrows, a few bills in her hand. "Are you heading to Simon after school?" Clarissa resisted the urge to roll her green eyes. _It's like my only friend is Si._ She sighed. _He is my only friend._ She nodded her head in response even though Clarissa wasn't heading to her manga loving friend. Her mother waved before her daughter leaped out of the apartment room and down the stairwell.

She swatted at her crimson waves in attempt for it to look somewhat manageable. The streets of New York seemed to be decorated with a blanket of frosting. No, it wasn't snowing but ice covered the sidewalks and curbs and she sucked in the cold air. Clarissa's feet pounded against the tarmac and she bolted deliberately into the same alleyway she had visited twice before.

She skidded to a halt when she caught a glimpse of his figure, a glass bottle gripped in his fingers. For perhaps a split second, the man glanced up and something flickered in his fair orbs. Her book bag was leaning away from her back and her red curls fell onto her cheeks freely. She was certain she appeared a mess but he simply leaned against the brick wall, something else in his right hand.

Clarissa eyed the amber liquid. It was beer. His eyes were glazed but he stood steadily. His golden crown of hair was thrown to the left side and his shoulders were slumped. Despite his appearance, she grabbed the small plastic bag from her pack and stretched her arm out. "I bought you this." It looked sort of deformed, the bagel but his eyes snapped on hers.

"Why the hell are you here?" He demanded. The girl took a step back. He trudged towards her and she lowered her breakfast offering in disappointment. He was drunk too which was another story. His fist was clenched around the unknown object.

Clarissa knew he was angry but the rage wasn't directed in her direction. She needed to get to class. She only dropped by because...well she didn't even figure why. It was sort of odd, the way Clarissa was drawn to him. Like some sort of fly. His breath smelled like alcohol and he raised the glass bottle above her head. Clarissa's eyes shut and her heart pounded dangerously in her chest.

She heard the glass break, shattered into many broken fragments. Her eyelids opened and she snuck a glance at him. He was sitting down now, legs outstretched. He didn't mind her. Her breathing was rapid and Clarissa threw the bagel onto his lap. After that, she ran to school, her burnt sunset colored hair leaving with her but she didn't see the eyes that followed too.

 **[XXX]**

"But you just ate. That's not fair! Just hand it to me Fray." Simon protested reaching for the carton of cookies. She smacked his hand away and smiled hastily.

"Sorry, Si. Not this time. I have to leave." Clarissa darted away from him and he pushed up his glasses in confusion. Before he could ask where she was heading, his best friend disappeared. He sighed, slightly interested.

Clary adjusted the books in her arms and reached the small space. She paused, eyeing her surroundings in search of him. When she finally spotted the young man, he was slumbering. The flickering street light illuminated his amber locks. The only movement was his chesting falling and rising. It was difficult trying to imagine that this boy was ruthless. That the boy had said he wanted to perish. She didn't even know him, nor understand him.

Clarissa settled on the cold cement and shivered at the thought of sleeping in this weather. She leaned quietly to study him in curiousity. She made sure her hair didn't get in his way. His eyelashes were long and fluttered every so often. He had lost the traces of boyhood. His head was perched against his shoulder slightly and she held in her breath before placing her fingers onto his hair. She pushed his tendrils back a bit. His cheeks were colored a bright pink color and his hair looked like sunshine. Bright and gold.

She shook her head and placed her arms down in retreat. Clarissa dug into her bag and pulled out the lunch she was saving for him. Her back faced him as she drew a bologna sandwich from the ziploc bag. It was for her to eat but she eventually saved it for him. He looked like he needed it.

When she turned to leave the meal, Clarissa found his eyes watching her. Her lips parted in surprise and she instantly thought he would get angry, maybe even push her away. Instead he yanked a small box out of his back pocket. Cigarettes. Figures. After a moment or two, he took a long drag and blew the smoke away. He didn't stare at her. "Why are you here?"

She studied him with a sort of gentleness that caused him to jerk away. He wasn't used to those looks. Looks that actually cared. Her frizzy hair was blown to the right side and she wore no make up at all. In fact, she appeared better that way. Clarissa sighed just loud enough for him to hear. "What's your name?" She asked, not responding to his question. He looked like he didn't want to answer. His eyebrows rose and he lowered his cigarette.

"Does it matter?" At his answer, she grinned and he noticed her shoulders finally relax. She tilted her head to the left and the smile on her face was so evident, a lot of people would feel the same way. He grunted and waited taking a puff of the cigarette. His lips pursed and he stared numbly at the small space he was currently lounging in.

"I can play the question game all day." She replied, scooting a few inches closer to him. He took a brief look at her and turned away, slightly bewildered by her actions. When he didn't say anything, she handed him the sandwich and bottle of water. He didn't take it.

"Come on. Take it. I make a pretty mean sandwich." She continued oblivious to his shut off behavior. Finally, his eyes fixed on hers. Her orbs were _so_ wide. _So_ green. _So_ warm. It reminded him of a light painting. He squinted at her through hardened and cruel golden eyes that age seemed to steal from.

"Do you not fucking get it through your damn head? Leave me alone." She winced and he noticed but didn't bother doing anything. His words stung, he could tell that for sure. That's what they were supposed to do. Hurt. Wound. Leave a scar.

She rose to her feet silently and frowned before checking the time. It was six. Clarissa left the food beside him in case he changed his mind. She raised her satchel and wrapped it around her shoulder. "I'll see you later, I guess." She mumbled, giving him a dejected wave.

As she sauntered out of the lane pondering about him, Clarissa heard someone call. "Ay, girl! I'm allergic to bologna!" Her brow arched but she ended up shouting back nonetheless.

"I made jelly too!" At that mere second, she shifted while walking and saw him crush the cigarette with his boots and bite into the bread she had offered him.

 **[Please review for the next chapter! Thanks!]**


	5. Chapter 5

" _Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago. Maybe the star doesn't even exist any more. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything."_ (Haruki Murakami)

 **[I Won't Let You In]**

Clarissa watched him closely as he shut his eyes and lied down on the sidewalk. Her shoulders slumped and she decided to stay silent. The only sound heard was the harsh winds of winter. Her lips formed into a slight pout. "You can leave girl. I don't see why you're here in the first place." He said, voice muffled.

"Where's your mom and dad?" Clarissa chose to ask, leaning forward to view his face. That was clearly the wrong response for the fair eyed boy. He swung to face her, eyes boring onto hers. His expression was smoldering in a way that caused her to feel afraid. Clarissa tried to step away and ended up tripping on her bare knees. Wincing at the sudden sting, she glanced up to see him pacing with a cigarette tucked in his lips.

"Stop bein' clumsy." He warned her, narrowing his eyes at the scratch forming on her knee. She gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"Maybe I would if you didn't act like you would hit me." He stopped his walking and arched his eyebrows.

"You think I'll hit ya?" She felt uncomfortable under his hardening gaze and looked away, not answering. Instead of focusing on him, Clarissa flipped her phone open and texted Simon a quick message.

 _Be there in 15. By the way, got a new anime for us. Popcorn please!_

She pulled her satchel strap over her shoulder and pushed away her hair in frustration. When the bright haired girl took a final look at him, she found him staring at her with an unreadable expression plastered on his face. "What?" Clarissa blurted beginning to saunter away.

"Where are you goin'?" He called, hands shoved in his jacket pockets.

She snorted. "It's not like you care."

His response surprised her and she had to halt her steps and whirl to face him. "Who fucking said that?"

"So you do care?" She ignored the foul language and nearly grinned in victory. He collapsed to the same spot he always slept in and shook his head.

"You should put a band aid on that, girl." Her cheeks colored and Clarissa felt somewhat glad that he had some kindness. With that, she trudged over to him and plopped beside him. He didn't seem startled.

"My name's Clary." She mumbled.

He let out a breath. "What the hell are you tryin' to do?"

His hair this time was tousled in a way that caused strands to fall over his forehead and neck in messy tendrils. His orbs were shown brightly unlike the falling flakes outside. There was something about him she admired. There was confidence, but not too much. Just enough. "Aren't you cold?"

"No." He answered harshly and she instantly frowned.

Eyes widening, she stumbled to her feet almost forgetting about her best friend. Jace studied her as she fumbled for her bag. Her wild hair was let down today resembling crimson clouds. She wore a sweater today, one that was colored with red and green stripes. Her eyes met his for a split second.

"I guess I'll see you whenever." He didn't say anything back.

 **[] [] [] [] [] []**

Clarissa reached her hands into the bag and pulled out a handful of sour cream and onion chips. Her friend's expression turned sour. "How can you eat that?"

She giggled and swung her head to meet his brown eyes. "Delicious." She droned on slowly knowing it annoyed him. Simon stuck his tongue out and took a sip from his soda.

"So, I'm guessing the good guy is the blue one right. Eh, he looks kinda angry though." She muttered and heard the four eyed boy huff in exasperation.

Simon and Clary had the kind of friendship that nothing could ever break. The one that started at the center of one's heart. They stuck up for each other when they were young. They had never shared a fight, not even an argument.

Clary's thoughts were disrupted by the sound of something thudding against the roof and windows. She raised her eyebrows and pulled away from Simon's lap. He gave her a questioning glance but she asked instead, "Is it raining?"

With a mouthful of food in his cheeks, he replied, "Obviously. Didn't you check the weather. It's gonna be _extreme_. That's why it's movie night Clare." She rolled her emerald eyes at the statement then realized the situation.

Hopping off the all too comfortable couch, she ran to her bedroom ignoring her best friend's cry of surprise. She brought out an umbrella from her closet and an extra hoodie she never really used. "I'll be back Si." Clary slipped on her shoes despite the fact that they weren't fit for the current weather. Her hair was in a frenzy and her clothes were thin for such rain but she didn't really know why she cared so much.

The water droplets fell onto her hair in mere seconds and Clary tried to cover up her body but it was a failed attempt. The gusting wind blew over her pajamas and she shivered involuntarily. Normally, she adored the rain. It felt like a new day was coming. That the rain was washing them from all previous events and actions. She tilted her head slightly and took a quick turn in the alleyway.

Clary found him crouched on the sidewalk, hoodie still down. His hair appeared almost black from the water. He gazed up and she saw his lips part slightly. _He finally shows emotion! Go Clary! Point number one!_ She hurried to him and dropped the thick hoodie onto his lap. "I figured you'd need it." He didn't say anything.

She continued. "I brought an umbrella too. I know it's not enough but I can't really-"

He cut her off with a skeptical look on his face. His lips curved into a frown. "It's raining like shit and you decide to care about me?" The question caught her off guard and Clary pursed her lips for an answer. She couldn't find one. For perhaps a split second, she felt no rain and only focused on his eyes. The ones that stared at hers in some amazement. Some surprise. And even some grief.

His head dropped to gaze at the sidewalk covered with puddles. "You should go. Thanks but no thanks. Go home."

Clary's mother had always told her she was stubborn. Hard headed. Always defiant of orders. This was an example. Her teeth was chattering and her cheeks colored into a vivid red. She leaned forward and sat across from him, raising the umbrella so that it concealed mostly himself. He noticed and pulled the plastic hook towards her. "Keep it." His voice gruff. But she didn't listen.

"Why don't you talk?" She almost whispered and the young man whipped his head to hear her.

"What the hell do you mean? Do you hear me speaking or are you just deaf?"

"You know what I mean..."

There wasn't words to describe the cold she was feeling. Especially him. The cold rain seeped into the thin fabric of her shoes. The freezing drops fell onto her neck and hair and Clary was quivering with much needed heat. He realized her condition and launched the hoodie she gave him over to her. "Put it on or you'll freeze to death."

She shook her head. "You put it on or I won't leave." He arched an eyebrow and saw that she was serious. He laughed and her eyes widened. It was a real laugh. One that actually sounded happy to her ears. It bubbled out of his chest and Clary saw the beauty that shown on his delicate face. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Alright." He said simply, putting on the coat slowly in demonstration. She smiled through the cold. Clary wiped the wet locks of hair off her forehead with her sleeve.

"I lied about leaving."

"Yeah, well, I kind of knew that."

"You-You didn't answer my question." She asked, sniffing slightly.

He shouldered her coat so that it was adjusted correctly. "Because...sometimes there aren't things to talk about."

She countered in disagreement. "There's always something to talk about. That's not even an excuse."

His golden flecked eyes moved to her face. "I wouldn't know."

Clary moved to his right side so that her back rested on the brick wall as the rain fell. It felt like waves were falling over them. The rumbling of the clouds. The hissing and screeching of car tires. The leaves that drooped onto branches. The relentless drumming of nails was what it sounded like.

She coughed and saw him glance at her. "What?"

He let out an exasporated breath. "Stop bein' like that and go home."

"Why should I?"

"I'll walk you to where ever you live as long as you stay there. Alright?"

Clary rose from her position. "Really?"

"Don't rub it in shortie."

She held a suspicious expression on her face. "And you have to talk back to me."

He stood up and shook the rain off his locks. "Come on. Lead the way." Clary watched him pull out a cigarette to smoke. She tugged the umbrella along with him and he yanked it from her small hands. She released a yelp of surprise and anger.

"I'm taller if you haven't realized already." They walked down the sidewalks passing the buzzing streets of New Yorkers. His strides were longer and she struggled to keep up with him. Some people gave them curious glances but Clary ignored them. Her pajamas clung onto her body and she inched closer to him.

"Don't you have, you know, a family?"

"Had a family." He answered, deciding not to look at her.

"Oh." Was all she replied back. They remained silent until he spoke again, voice low.

"Did you forget you were supposed to lead the way or did you think I knew where you lived?"

Clary's eyes widened and she quickly told him the directions in embarassment. _Stop being stupid Clary. He's just a boy!_ She knew otherwise. The rain had finally stopped but they were still drenched. White drifts blew past them and he dropped the umbrella in her hand silently. Clary couldn't help but feel safe beside him even though all he did was curse and taunt her. She felt a sense of belonging she never felt with Simon.

"There you go." He said, eyes weary. She wondered if he got any sleep lately. She chose not to ask for the coat back. It was better off with him. He needed it more than she did.

They stood at her apartment room and she still never went in. "Are you stupid? Get in the damn room." Clary grinned.

"Thanks for taking me." She ignored his statement with her own. "By the way, what's your name?"

His slim but muscular figure leaned against the door frame. His ruby colored lips lifted into a semi smirk and Clary felt her heart soar at the sight.

"I love how you go to random strangers and help them without getting their names. For all you know, I could be a damn rapist." Her orbs rolled in irritation.

"Just shut up. You're not helping anything. Plus, I know you're not a rapist or some kind of criminal. And don't curse either." Realizing what he was doing, Jace moved away from her and she followed his actions in confusion.

"Wait!" She shouted, taking a brisk step forward.

"It's Jace." And then he left.

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 **[a/n]:** Thanks for the wonderful reviews! They certainly make my day. I hope you guys continue to do so.

Check out my other story: **Did You Forget About Me?**


	6. Chapter 6

" **The man was rude, crude, and inappropriate. I was taken with him the moment I walked in the door, and I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it."** (C.M. Stunich)

Clary slid into the sheets of her bed, shutting her eyes forcefully in attempt to catch sleep. Nothing worked. Growling like a bear who needed to hibernate, she slipped onto her feet and grabbed her mother's coat. She remembered his tawny colored eyes. Ravishing. Magnificent. Divine. He drew her to him even if her thoughts denied him.

Stealthily, she darted down the stairwell of the old apartment and caught a warm night in Manhattan. Smiling, she turned a corner at the alleyway and found him walking away from his spot. "Wait, Jace!" She shouted, finally using his name.

He stopped and turned, shaking his head when he saw her. "What the hell? Isn't it fucking two right now?"

She nodded, her chest heaving. "It's actually two thirty." He rolled his eyes but she saw a flicker of a smile reach his lips. His eyes shown brightly in the dark and her cheeks grew rosy at the sight. Jace didn't notice and trudged away. She grumbled to him but followed, her strides much shorter than his.

"Where are we going?" Clary asked, pushing her hair back.

"It's not like it matters. You'll follow me anyway, right?" His answer made her laugh and she saw amusement in his eyes. Jace was an enigma. Perplexing. Baffling.

They were heading to some run down building with a slightly crumbling roof. She stopped and eyed the structure, a bit of fear clogging her head. Jace whirled and faced her an odd expression crossing his features. "Are you comin' or not?" Clary decided that staying with him was better than being on the streets.

It was too dark to see and Jace brought out his lighter which relieved her worries. They continued walking for a long time passing by broken wood and cement. She even caught sight of a dead bird and a white cat. Gulping, Clary leaned into Jace and felt him stiffen. He didn't say anything.

They reached some sort of steel door and Jace pulled out a key from his pocket. The door creaked open causing a sound that chilled her spine. Jace motioned for her to slip in and after she did he shut the door before locking it. "What is this?" She whispered.

He didn't reply. Jace snapped a switch on and light illuminated the large room before them. She gasped. Words were plastered and slathered against all the walls with black spray paint. The only colors were crimson and black. Without permission, Clary touched the terms in curiousity and awe. "Who did this?" She mumbled, almost to herself.

"It's not a big deal." She heard him say. At that, Clary snorted.

"It's amazing. You're an artist." She marveled.

She spotted a bed at the corner of the room and made the conclusion that he lived here. She was relieved that he had somewhere to stay. Jace lied on the bed and stared at the ceiling, eyebrows scrunching. She skipped over to him and stared down.

"What are you going to do now?" Clary asked.

"Do you ever go away?" He nearly groaned and she stifled a giggle.

"Nope."

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she watched as he pulled a few pills from his pocket. "What is that?"

He popped them into his lips and swallowed. "Magic." She rolled her jade eyes at the immature response.

"You mean...drugs that kill you." Jace grinned crookedly.

She played with her fingers in boredom and sighed. What could she do now? If she returned, she'd be grounded for months. Scratch that, her life. Frowning, Clary asked, "Do you have something to eat?"

He pointed towards a bag on the ground. She bent lower and rummaged through it finding two bottles of beer and several boxes of cigarettes. "You have nothing in here!" She complained.

"That is my food." He said, letting out a breath. Clary felt her stomach growl. Pouting, she let go of the plastic bag and returned to her seat on the bed.

Something abruptly clanged and she jumped slightly in surprise. Jace immediately sat up, eyes narrowing. She heard the sound of the door opening with the same creak. "Who's that?" Clary asked hesitantly. He stood up and told her to stand behind him. She protested but he glared at her and she listened.

"Ay, Jace! Where you at?" A deep voice called and Clary's breathing fastened. A short figure came into view and Clary recognized it as the same guy who was with Jace the day she met him. He was handsome with tan skin and curly ebony colored hair.

"What is this?" He questioned and Clary swore that he saw her.

Jace rolled his eyes before saying, "Fuck off, Raphael."

The young man laughed and stepped towards them, a smile forming on his pink lips. "Why can't I get a piece of this?"

Jace scoffed, his expression hardening almost instantly. "I said fuck off."

Raphael held up his hands in defense and backed away slowly on purpose, dropping a wink In Clary's direction. He grabbed a few cigarettes and stomped away angrily.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "You're so stupid." Clary began to ramble, eyes wide. "I could've died. Oh god, what would've happened if you weren't here..."

She glanced up hesitently and met his fair gaze. She expected him to scold her but instead he leaned down and covered her lips with his. It came out of nowhere and Clary felt like her head could explode any moment. His lips were warm and shockingly gentle. She shut her eyelids pushing away any invading thoughts and stood on the tips of her toes to reach his height but even then it was a failed attempt. He grinned against her lips at the try but lifted her up so that her legs wrapped around his hips.

She pulled away first, heart beating like thrumming drums. Jace's cheeks were rose colored and Clary could only imagine what she appeared like. "I thought I was annoying." She grumbled, smiling.

He played with a long auburn curl from her hair before responding, "Shut the hell up." With that, Jace pushed his lips onto hers and exhaled through his nose. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and heard him release a groan. The smoldering heat between them only strengthened and Jace mumbled something about her height.

"Fuck off." She mumbled against him.


	7. Chapter 7

" _I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe."_

Tahereh Mafi

She snatched her shoe laces upwards and tied them before stomping to her mother's room. "Mom, I'm goin' over a friend's house. Don't wait up!" Clary barely caught a glimpse of her and quickly grabbed her bag, patting at her hair to make sure she looked fine. Smiling a little at the thought of seeing him, she ran down the steps of the apartment and into the open. She had something for him today. Her excitement was only the beginning.

Though it was not snowing, it was still very cold and she hoped that Jace was warm, especially being in that alley. There were a few older kids throwing snowballs at one another, their laughs loud and obnoxious. Simon had texted her but she didn't bother to reply. He probably wanted to hang out. Or talk about his newest love interest, Isabelle Lightwood who happens to be his pen pal at school. Clary rolled her eyes. He hadn't even met her. Squeezing her coat closer to her freezing body, she took a sharp left turn into a small area where a street lamp was lit. Her lips curved upwards when she saw his body slouched against the wall.

She rummaged in her bag and caught the blue scarf in her hands. Clary dangled it in his face. His eyes met hers and he scoffed in obvious discomfort. "What are you doing?" A cigarette was between his fingers.

"It's a scarf Jace. I worked all night to make it. Here." She thrusted it out to him but he didn't grab it. She frowned and dumped her bag next to his feet before sitting beside him. Only their shoulders touched. He tugged at his lighter and lit the the object in his hand. The smell of nicotine filled her nostrils and she scowled.

"Come on. Try it. I worked all night on it." She pleaded with him, lifting the material upwards. Sure, she wasn't the best at making scarves but this one actually looked okay. Maybe not the two holes on the bottom but the rest was fine. He glanced at her wearily, his face emotionless. As usual.

"No."

"What? Why?" Clary protested, rising to her knees.

"I don't wanna it. That's it. Let it alone." She bit at her bottom lip in disappointment and sat back against the wall. She decided to finish her homework. Might as well. She unzipped her backpack pocket and pulled out her tattered and worn out notebook. Licking her finger quickly, she thumbed through the pages trying to find the mathematics sheet her teacher had handed out. She made a sound of joy when she touched the wrinkled paper with doodles drawn on it.

Jace bent down a little and she peered at him in confusion. "What?"

He pointed. "Who is he?"

Her eyebrows knit and she looked closer and saw what he was staring at. A picture of Simon and her at homecoming. He had kissed her cheek. It wasn't weird though. They were best friends. Wasn't it obvious to him?

"That's Simon. My best friend."

Jace nodded his head slowly, registering the words though it took some time. His hair unfurled and began to spread recklessly atop his head. He stayed silent after that, blowing out breaths of tobacco. She studied him occasionally but gave up when he didn't even seem to notice her. She might as well leave. _He_ had kissed her. Why didn't he feel any different? She felt butterflies when she sat close to him. Her cheeks flushed even when he gave her soft glares. Did he feel anything at all? Was she just a one time thing? That made her sad.

"I'm gonna-" And before she could excuse herself to leave dejectedly, she heard two voices coming towards them. Whirling her head, she met the eyes of Raphael, a grin on his face. It wasn't directed to her. There was a girl next to him too. She was pretty with brown skin and braided hair. Her clothes were something else. Something Clary would never dare put on or be faced with a wooden spoon holding mother. But it looked amazing on her.

Before she could even react, Jace's hand shot out and tightened on her wrist. She yelped in surprise as he rose to his feet. She thought he was going to fight with the guy again. No way. Then Raphael gave Jace a handshake and Maia gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Something stirred inside of her at the gesture of affection. "I'm Maia." The girl said abruptly and held out her slender hand. Clary's lips were open wide and Jace had to push her forward to that she would shake her hand.

"Oh, I'm Clary."

Raphael still had a smile on his face. He was attractive. Really attractive but no where near Jace. She almost kicked her foot out at the thought but held it in. "Sorry. We never really met at...the right time." There was amusement in his tone and he held out his left hand. His right hand was tucked in his pocket. She swallowed.

"Okay." Was all she said. And she shook his hand.

They stood around Jace, Maia talking on the phone and looking to be in a heated argument and Raphael passing something into Jace's lap. She barely saw what it was. She didn't even want to know. She wanted to leave. She stood upright and grabbed her satchel and the rejected blue scarf with her. Maybe Simon would like it. She shrugged and trudged down the alleyway. She didn't want to come back but it was getting difficult not to think about him. He was in everything she thought of. Everything she drew. Everything she wrote.

"Wait!" Jace. Her mouth parted. He was running towards her and then he stopped when there were inches between their faces. God, she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to smack her forehead in irritation. _Focus._ He reached closer and her eyelids hovered shut on reflex. Then...nothing. She blinked her green eyes open and saw that he had her scarf around his shoulders. Her cheeks burned. He must have seen her! She wanted to bury herself alive. If she bolted now, maybe he wouldn't talk to her. A small smile was on his face.

He leaned forward and said, "I was going to kiss you. I just wanted the scarf first." And he pecked her temple and walked back to his friends.

Her knees melted.


	8. Chapter 8

" _You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you."_

Haruki Murakami

"Can we actually _go_ somewhere for once?" Clary asked, her lips forming into a small frown. Jace glanced up momentarily, her pencil tucked behind his ear. He looked beyond cute. She decided not to say anything. They were sitting on a block of pavement outside the alleyway. The sun was up but snow still covered the grounds like a spill of powder. She shielded her eyes away.

Jace shrugged carelessly. "Where?"

"Anywhere but here. A coffee shop! Yea, I want some coffee right now. Come on." She replied, talking mostly to herself. She grabbed her backpack and shouldered it before walking forward. He didn't say much. He never did. When Clary saw that his footsteps were slow and deliberate, she waited for him then sauntered again.

"What's up with you?" She questioned, raising both her eyebrows. One eyebrow took too much effort. She found herself staring at the tip of his elbow. Her annoyance rose.

He bit his bottom lip, blazing tawny orbs watching the busy streets of New York. "Nothing."

Clary snorted, a stupid grin on her face. "Sure. You're a bad liar."

She caught his mouth curl after her statement. He pushed open the door for her and she slipped under his outstretched arm. They stood at the line. "Can we play a game?"

Jace looked startled, probably not expecting the question. "What game?"

"21 questions."

He clicked his tongue in understanding. "You're usin' that as an excuse to get information about me, right?"

Her cheeks colored and he laughed. After a moment or two, he agreed. "You go first."

"Where's your family?"

His jaw clenched. She took a step backwards hesitantly. "In California."

"Oh." She said quietly, trying to keep her thoughts organized.

"My turn." He started. Clary took the steaming cup of black coffee from the worker and sat at a nearby booth. "Siblings?"

"Only child."

"Why'd you leave your family?" She needed answers. This was probably the only way to get them.

He sighed like he was exhausted. "I didn't want to be near them."

Jace ran his hand through his hair. "How long have you lived in New York?" His questions were casual. Didn't he want to know more about her? Was he not interested?

"Born and raised." He nodded in appreciation.

"Why do you..." She struggled trying to form the words. "Why do you put up this mask? I mean-you're not really this cruel person. I know it. Why do you do it?"

He narrowed his eyes to slits. "You think you know me but you never will. I don't put up anything."

Clary swallowed a gulp of her tea, the heat reaching her chest.

"Where's the drawing you made of me?"

She almost dropped the hot liquid on her lap. "What drawing?"

He smirked. "I know you drew me. I saw the paper. Where is it?" When she didn't answer, he tapped his long fingers against the table's counter. "Play by the rules, red." That was the first time he'd ever called her 'red'. Was that her nickname now?

Scowling in embarrassment, Clary defiantly answered, "I didn't draw you and that's it."

He shook his head. She took the opportunity to strike. "Your mom, don't you miss her?"

His expression seemed to drop instantly. He stood up, pressed his hand against his pocket. "I've got to go." It came out as a snarl.

She watched as he stormed out, a little too quick for her to focus on him. Her breathing was a bit rapid. She had taken the game too far. Slinging her bookbag, she raced down the street and grabbed his arm. He whirled in surprise. "What?"

"The drawing...I have it here." She rummaged beneath her zipper and took out the crumbled portrait. She couldn't read what he was thinking.

He stared at her. "My mother wouldn't want me. Not for a million bucks, Clary." His voice was so soft it hurt to listen to.

"No mom would-"

"Just go home. I told you that the first time, didn't I? Don't think about me."

The world around her appeared to swirl. She tugged her coat tighter around her body. "So..so-you don't care? At all?"

"I do."

She was beyond exasperated. "Then why are you telling me to leave you alone?"

Jace released a breath. He twirled a piece of her hair on his finger like silk. "I don't know." And he sounded one hundred percent honest. "Shit. Do you really want to know?"

She nodded numbly, ears open. "I'm a dealer. I do drugs. I don't have a permanent house because I'll get sent to jail if police find me. I have no family except the people who give me money. I take out my anger on others because I can't stand it when they have things I don't."

It took her a long time to say something. Anything. "I don't care." It was a whisper.

"What?" He demanded, looking even more tired than usual.

"I said I don't care about anything you just said. I just want you."

"Repeat it."

She gave him a confused look. "I want you, Jace."

And he pulled her into the biggest hug a person could give. She gasped lightly and he let out this short laugh that warmed her whole body. "Fucking hell." She heard him say. "You're a good artist."

Maybe it was the fact that she didn't expect him to say that or because he was showing her his real side, either way, it caused Clary to choke on her laughter and the both of them held their stomachs for what seemed like hours.

 **[Review]**


	9. Chapter 9

_Everything has to come to an end, sometime._

L. Frank Baum

Simon tugged at a tendril of her hair and she groaned, pulling away from his grasp. He laughed, his arm still wrapped around her. They were watching some disney movie Clary didn't recall seeing before. Something about a boy and a gigantic robot friend. She was barely paying attention, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Trying to come up with excuses to see Jace was getting difficult. She had already tried the I've-got-a-project-due and school-work excuses to Simon. He was getting suspicious, she could tell. Before Jace, her entire day would be spent with her childhood friend. After all, she had no one else.

Clary gently moved on the sofa so that she was staring at the boy beside her, his unmoving brown eyes focused on the television screen in front of him. "I'm gonna head out, Si." Once the words were uttered, he glanced to her in surprise, a handful of chips in his hand held in mid air.

"What? You just got here!" She winced at his tone.

"Don't worry. I'll come back tonight. I'm still sleeping over." He sat up, his junk food forgotten.

"What's up with you? You've been going out so many times this past month. What's up?" She expected anger but all she could hear was a little hurt and a lot of concern. Her lips quirked upwards in an uneasy smile.

She sighed as if defeated. "I didn't want anyone to know..." She faltered, waiting for him to react.

He pushed his glasses up in annoyance. "Didn't want anyone to know what?"

Clary inched closer to him. "Remember those art classes I wanted to take?"

He nodded slowly, confusion still clear on his pale skin. "The ones you couldn't join, right?"

"Well", she started. "That's where I've been going. I'm using all the money I've saved up. You know, birthdays, allowances, and whatever."

Simon looked anxious. "How come you didn't tell me? I could help with some of the cash, Fray." He sounded betrayed and her heart tightened at the feeling. She never lied to him. Never in her entire life. Jace was such a touchy subject, it almost felt like she could speak to no one about him. He was her secret.

Clary swallowed. "Si, I've got it covered. Don't worry. You know I tell you everything. I just wanted to get a hang of the classes first before I told you."

It took him a few moments to reply. "Okay. Wow. You were starting to scare me." He grinned, shaking his head in what appeared to be exasperation.

"Sorry. Just don't tell mom. She's got enough to worry about." He nodded and she released a breath of relief. Rising to her feet, she grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulders. The credits of the movie started to roll downwards.

"See ya, Simon." He waved and with a jump in her step, Clary hurried down the apartment stairs, into the fresh air of coming autumn. The powder on the streets from winter had melted and the sun now regularly lit up the New York atmosphere. He wasn't in the alleyway so she supposed he was in his house, if you even called it that.

She didn't like the path to get there. It was creepy and she could hear tiny animals scurrying as she walked. The sky was a lilac color, soft and only spread in some areas. It was nearing evening as Clary knocked on the rusty door. He answered and she blinked at the light of his room that stung her eyes.

He walked back in and she almost scoffed at his lack of greeting but thought against it, shutting his door behind her. "Jace?" She called, uncertain of where he had gone. His bed was already made, no wrinkles or folds in sight. She sauntered to the painted walls where they had first kissed, the memory still permanently glued in the inner depths of her mind. Absent-mindedly, she traced her fingers on the words, large and neat. She read some of the terms, thinking that perhaps there was an artist in Jace she missed. Then she heard it. Soft sounds. Like tiny musical footsteps. Her gaze drew to another door, one she hadn't seen before. Bewildered, she thought of knocking but didn't think it mattered. He already knew she was there anyway.

Clary swung the door open and the source of the noises she had listened to earlier was revealed. A piano. And the notes were louder now. Jace was playing, bare chested for he wore no shirt, his fingers dancing across the white and black keys. It wasn't a happy tune but it wasn't exactly sad either. It was a mix of both and all she could really do was watch and listen in fascination. He was beautiful. His hair was unruly, damp and scattered in a long mess. His hands were trembling lightly and there was something in his posture that caused her orbs to widen by a fraction. He looked at peace. He wasn't angry or annoyed or even harsh. He was...himself.

Hesitantly, she trudged forward, afraid to disturb him. But he didn't notice her or at least, he didn't care. The piano bench still held some room so she sat, making sure she was a few inches away from him. She could feel the air of concentration around him. The way his foot tapped impatiently and still on cue. There wasn't a sheet of music in front of him. The stand was empty. He was playing by heart.

And Clary wondered what the piece was called. It was nostalgic. It made her remember swing sets and occupied days. Stories and kisses at night. Childhood then adulthood even though she wasn't quite there yet to begin with. A wave of his tawny hair fell forward, catching at the sweat of his brow. Unable to stop herself, she brought her fingers to him and swept the hair away from his forehead. He was burning. And suddenly, despite not knowing a thing about playing music, she heard the sound of a wrong note, one that didn't belong and then the wonderful melody halted.

She snatched her hand away. "I'm sorry. I just-" He shook his head wearily, like the piano had drained him. He covered his face with his arms for a minute or more, she couldn't really count while staring at him.

Clary hear his sharp breaths, small and nearly silent. She wondered if he was angry that she had interrupted him. The music was so magnificent and true. So full of things unsaid. She pushed away her backpack and her arm accidentally pressed upon some of the keys, random and ugly noises erupting. She flinched but saw that Jace was looking at her now. She glanced away, folding her hands together tightly.

"Clary. Look at me." He rarely ever spoke her name and unsure of his motive, she turned to face him. His eyes were dark, a hazy gold. They still made her dizzy when she stared for too long.

He was biting his bottom lip, the hair she had moved away was back against his forehead. It made him look better than before. He leaned in, his warm breath tickling her face, making her think thoughts she shouldn't. Without saying anything else, he closed the bench space between them and they were kissing. Tender, tiny kisses. Hungry but patient. He would press his lips to hers then pull away only to come back a moment later. She placed her hands on his shoulders, the skin there was tingling with heat. At her touch, he pressed her body closer to his.

Then he groaned and rested backwards, his arms still around her waist. Clary tried to breathe but her chest was rising and falling too quickly. She was so close to him; he hadn't let go of her. She was glad she was sitting. If she had been standing, her knees would have melted into a puddle. His fingers pressed her chin up and she was forced to look at him. "You're not gonna faint, are you?" The unfriendly tone was back again.

She snatched her face from his hands at the loaded question. Her eyebrows furrowed. "No." Silence followed until Jace stood, taking away all the warmth he had given her. She watched him saunter out of the room.

Growling under her breath, Clary stalked forward, following him. He sat on his bed, throwing an orange ball to the ceiling and back. "I didn't know you played the piano."

He shrugged and didn't answer. Her hands fisted till her fingernails dug into her flesh. Couldn't he at least pretend to care a bit? He had just kissed her. Did that not matter at all?

Angrily, Clary moved to the edge of the room farthest away from him. She faced the wall, an empty space not yet painted on. An idea rippled in her head. She reached into her bag and felt for her art kit, bringing it out in a heap on the ground. "Okay." She whispered to herself. Now she had to think of what to draw. It was never difficult for her to doodle in class because she was always bored, constantly creative. She twisted her feet so that she could criss-cross comfortably. She grabbed her sketching pencil, lightly tapping it along the wall, making tiny marks of black on the hard surface.

Soon, everything disappeared. And she was drawing. She didn't know what she was drawing or what would come of it but she kept going. A pale slant there. A line here. Shading of different hues. She stopped. Placed her arm down because it ached slightly. Clary glanced at what she had just created. Wings. Golden wings. Extended and sparkling with all the colors of a rainbow. It wasn't done, obviously. Just a rough edit. From far away, they kind of looked real. Like an angel's. "What did you do?" It was Jace. Though his voice was accusing, it didn't hold any anger.

She ignored him just as he had done to her. She dumped her box into her backpack, not bothering to organize any of the materials. Her phone rang and she answered, knowing who it was without checking. "Simon?"

She fumbled with the zipper of her coat. "Give me thirty minutes. That's when the class ends. Alright. Yeah. Okay, bye."

When she straightened, she found Jace sitting down, staring at what she had drawn. His face was unreadable. Clary let out a breath. "I learned to play piano when I was a kid." Her lips parted and she let go of the zipper in her hand, letting her coat fall. "Back with my family. I wasn't forced though. I usually played when no one was in the house. Or when they were sleeping."

She sat beside him. "Well, it doesn't really matter. It was the most amazing thing I ever heard." They were facing her drawing. She could feel his gaze on her but she didn't dare move. It could ruin the moment.

He laid down on the carpeted ground. Was he cold? He still wasn't wearing a shirt. She could see the muscular lines on his chest. They moved as he breathed. Doing the same, Clary tucked herself near him. Not so close but not far either. Their shoulders touched. She held her breath. Trying to make her lungs stop their noises. "Jace?"

He didn't answer. She continued nonetheless. "Am I just...a play thing? If you know what I mean."

She heard him release a breath. "Maybe. I don't know." His voice was rough. Stumbling, she stood and zipped her jacket successfully this time. She almost ran to the door in her hurry to get out except he was faster. She could see his golden eyes, light now, staring at her.

"I'm leaving so let me go." She tucked her shaking hands into her pockets.

He shook his head. "I-I'm sorry." It sounded strangled like he had never said those words before.

"You can't just apologize for every little thing and expect me to come back everyday. You just can't." She sniffled and cursed her stupid emotions for getting the best of her.

"Okay." He moved away from the door.

She watched him, a sad expression on her face. Well, that was that. She walked away. He didn't stop her.


	10. Chapter 10

_We are all poets or babies in the middle of the night, struggling with being._

Martin Amis

It was a rough couple of days after that. She decided not to go to school, afraid her emotions would get the best of her. She pretended that she had a fever and rolled in bed for what seemed like hours, worrying her busy mother. "Are you sure you'll be alright, honey? I don't want to-"

Clary slumped backwards into her rumpled sheets, relishing the warmth of her blankets and pillows. "I'm fine." She nodded for the tenth time. "Really."

Jocelyn left a few pills on her stand and a bowl of what smelled like chicken soup, her daughter's favorite meal. Pecking her on the forehead, she grabbed her purse and quietly left the apartment room.

Clary turned her head to the side. She stared at her window. It was one in the afternoon and Simon was probably in class right now. She had received plenty of text messages from him, none of them she replied to. It was getting difficult to act like she was well and happy when her chest yearned for one familiar face that never left her thoughts. She wondered whether her lack of presence was bothering him. She shook the hopeful notion just as it came.

Instead, she rose from her bed and walked to the bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror was inevitable. She caught the dark circles under her eyes and the way her skin color was a sickish yellow. She glanced down to the sink quickly and rinsed her face, furiously rubbing until she felt utterly raw and clean.

She wanted to go somewhere. She didn't want to stay cooped up in a messy room and endure medications she didn't have to take in the first place. Clary pushed her way into the closet and tossed on the closest items her way. Her sweater was supposed to be a light pink, she had bleached it a year back when she couldn't understand how to work the washer. The shorts she wore was probably bought at a Salvations Army for the material was worn and the blue color faded. She shrugged and managed to find a few bucks in her savings can just in case she wanted something to eat.

She took her time down the stairwell to the lobby, worrying that might see him somewhere outside, although she knew that would never quite happen. He knew nothing of her. The air outside was chilly and she wished she hadn't forgotten her gloves at home. She gritted her teeth and walked to the coffee shop, black tea the only thing on her mind. When she sauntered to the counter, the cashier gave her a grin and she recognized him as the worker who always served her. "Where have you been?" He jokingly asked, raising his arms up in question.

An unwilling smile found its way to her lips and she shifted uncomfortably. "Just sick."

"Oh. Hope you feel better then. If I get sick, I stay that way for years." Clary rolled her eyes at his sarcasm and ordered a donut along with her tea.

She turned to the side and sat on an empty chair as others ordered their meals. She sighed, finally having the desire to scroll through Simon's messages. Each one was as desperate as the next.

 _Where arreeee you?_

 _You're leavin' me with the fucking jocks!_

 _Oh my god. They're looking at me._

 _They're gonna fight me. Or throw me in the trash bin like in elementary._

 _False alarm. They just wanted my homework answers._

 _Are you okay?_

 _Clary!_

 _I will go to your apartment if I have to!_

 _Clary!_

She typed back, her fingers twitching slightly at the normality of Simon's words. He was such an endearing idiot.

 _I will call you. xx_

"Black tea and a caramel filled donut!" She stood and handed the woman an exact amount, silently taking the hot cup of tea in her hands. She worked her way out of the cafe and waited until she was outside to eat what felt like her breakfast.

Clary moved against an abandoned building, pushing her phone into her satchel with little luck. Releasing a frustrated grunt, she let her donut lie on the cement ledge, covered by a napkin, and zipped her bag in success. The next thing was too shocking to describe. She was pulled hard towards the right and the hot liquid of her drink spilled onto her fingers. She screamed, her skin burning and red. "Shit!" The person beside her said. All she could think about was the searing sting radiating off her body. With blinking eyes, she found some napkins in her pocket and with her free hand, tried to pat the damaged spot.

It was only when she glanced up that she realized who had bumped into her. She opened her mouth and backed a step away from him.

"I-" He raked a hand through his hair. "Are you alright? I just needed to talk to you."

"What are you doing here?" She managed to say, a few tears had escaped at the agony of her injury and with a fleeting gesture, she dropped her empty cup to the ground.

Jace looked skeptical. Guilt, as she once thought he might feel, was not on his face. How had fate tied them in the same place at the same time?

He stepped closer to her and she almost stumbled in alarm. With an exasperated growl, he scowled. "Let me see your hand."

"No." Her voice was weak.

His eyes searched the streets around them. Some had noticed their interaction and were watching in interest.

He pursed his lips into a thin line and with a jerk of his head, he lugged her with her free arm, navigating their way to a dead end. She wrenched away from his touch when it was just the two of them in a narrow alley. _"Leave me alone!"_ Her yell was quiet, but spiteful and she recognized the twist in his mouth and the way his dark eyebrows rose in question at her behavior.

Without permission, he took her blotched hand with such gentleness that she let him. The tendrils of his hair fell against his face. "I didn't-" He sounded strained. She observed him, her breath stuck in her throat. He got out a tissue from his pocket, began to rub it on her skin in circular motions. Her shoulders almost relaxed. Then he started to speak again. "I was just trying to talk to you. I thought I wouldn't see you again. I-shit. My bad. I didn't know you had coffee on you. If I did-"

She took her hand away from him and he was forced to finally look at her. "I'm fine. You can go now."

For several, silent moments they stared at one another. Clary's hair had come untucked and her waves curled against her ears. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was tinted pink from the cold. His gaze narrowed and she could tell he was going to say something cruel.

"Don't fucking think you're higher than me. Don't. Walk away right now if you don't wanna talk to me. Leave me right now if you don't wanna see me."

She stayed where she was.

He slid to the ground, his back against the brick wall of a property they both had trespassed. His calloused palms found his cheeks and he peered up at her. "Can you sit next to me?"

The question was so simple. Her body controlled her mind and she moved towards him, like a stupid magnet. The cement was hard and freezing, but the way their shoulders touched made it feel like there was a fire burning in front of them.

"I don't know what to say to you. But..." He turned so that he was facing her. She recognized a new scar on his face. Right beneath his lips. It was small and white. Like a cross. She wondered where he had gotten it from.

"That day was the first time I played piano in front of someone. For years, I could only practice alone. I couldn't possibly do anything if someone was watching. I can't. And then you walked in. And I knew you were in the room. I could just feel it. I should've just stopped pressing on the keys then. But I didn't."

His hands fisted. "I don't know why. I can't help thinking about you and then I get angry because I'm such a fucking screw-up. So I took things out on you."

He let out a dry laugh, bitter to her ears. "I'm not drunk right now if that's what you're thinking."

It took her a while to respond. "It was worth the burn."

Something twinkled then and the gold in his pupils shined. Without thinking, she lunged herself forward and he caught her body as she grasped at his shoulders. His mouth found hers first and he thrust a hand through her hair, dragging his fingers delicately along the red strands.

He tasted like salt and sweetness, soft feathers and tender winter. He clutched her so closely that it felt like a summer's afternoon and not a grey day like this. She tugged away just enough that her legs were still wrapped around his waist, his arms tightening across her waist. Under the light of the creeping sun, his orbs were nearly black. His lips were wet and pink and swollen. She didn't want to think about what she looked like.

Clary lifted her fingers to his hair. His eyelids hovered shut and she pressed a lingering kiss on his forehead. "I missed you." She whispered.

She bent her head into the crook of his neck. He smelled like nicotine and sunshine. "You better not be cryin' on me." She didn't say anything as his hands traveled along her back, creating invisible designs she could not possibly see.


End file.
